Home
by Little Miss Isabelle
Summary: Kate finds herself losing Castle, and she struggles to understand why. Meanwhile, a case threatens to make or break the remaining relationship they have left. Set immediately after 4.20, The Limey. Tentative title for now.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I always tell myself that I'm not going to write for _another_ fandom, but with all the angst and drama on _Castle_ lately I couldn't help myself! I've been through somewhat of a dry spell writing-wise lately, and I'm not sure I'll be able to do Castle and Beckett justice, but the idea for this came to me last Monday morning while waiting at my grandmother's doctor's office (of course the promo for that night's episode kept airing in the waiting room…), and I couldn't let it go. _Especially_ after seeing the preview for the next episode! I didn't really want to do a post-47 Seconds fic, but I definitely wanted to do something current, and I think this fits quite nicely. :)

I'm not used to jumping into a new fandom with a multi-chap story, but we'll see how it goes. :) Please read and enjoy, and let me know what you think!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Castle. :(

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

Kate Beckett rubbed her eyes blearily as she sank into her chair at her desk. She stared at her monitor silently and heaved a sigh. She usually liked to get to the precinct before the guys and get a head start on her day—get her head in the zone. But even after nearly 10 minutes of trying to force herself to turn on her computer, maybe finish the paperwork she'd put off the night before, she couldn't manage to do so.

She'd stayed out with Colin until nearly eleven, but even she knew that wasn't why she hadn't slept well all night, why she was half-asleep now. She had seen the way Castle had breezed past her when she asked if they could talk… it was almost as if she didn't matter to him at all anymore. What had happened that he would act like he didn't know how much what they had together meant? He had to know it, right? Behind all the banter, all the jokes and the looks and the inadvertent brushes up against each other—behind all her running and all her suppressed emotions—he had to know that no one in the world mattered to her like Richard Castle did.

He _had_ to, right?

She wasn't sure what was changing between them, but it scared her. She didn't want to lose him, but… maybe—maybe she already h—

She shook her head violently as she choked back a sob and pushed herself to her feet, not willing to think about it. If she lost Castle, then she lost _everything_—her joy, her hope, her best friend, her future. She couldn't bear the thought that she had waited too long and that she could never—_would_ never—have Castle again.

She couldn't live with herself.

Kate made her way into the break room to make herself a cup of coffee, trying to clear her mind, prepare herself for the day. She had to talk to Castle—she _would_, soon—but for now, she had families who were depending on her to find answers and catch the bad guys. She couldn't, _wouldn't_ let them down.

That, and Ryan and Esposito would be in soon, and there was no way they would find her crying over her coffee cup.

She'd returned to her desk, shrugged out of her jacket, and managed to take a sip of her coffee before Espo burst in the door, all grins and morning sunshine. She grumbled into her coffee cup as he retreated to the break room, and, when he returned, she plastered a grin on her face. Ryan would be here soon, and if she wasn't back to her usual self, at least one of them would pick up on it.

* * *

Kate's eyes widened at the site of Rick Castle, climbing out of his red Ferrari across the street. She slowly climbed out of her car and shut the door behind her, staring at him the whole time. She'd texted him, told him about the murder, like she'd always done, but, to be honest, she really hadn't expected anything. Over the past two weeks since they'd wrapped up the bombing case, he had slowly been pulling away, and he rarely, if ever, showed up for a new case before 10 o'clock in the morning.

She'd figured he would have slept in—maybe not even shown up at all—thanks to stewardess-blond-bimbo-lady he'd probably had sex with late into the night. Or morning. Whatever. (_Eghhh_, she _really_ did not want to be thinking about that.)

Plastering a grin on her face, she called out to him with false bravado. "Castle!"

He grinned at her, but it nowhere near come to lighting his eyes like it used to. "Detective Beckett," he said, nodding formally.

"I didn't know if you would make it," she said, glancing over at him casually.

He frowned at her. "Why not?"

She gestured mindlessly with her left hand. "Well, it is only 8:30. And I figured you'd be with your stew—_flight_ attendant—" she corrected herself, glancing at him. He was dressed in fitted jeans and a navy striped dress shirt, and it crossed her mind that he shouldn't be able to look that good this early in the morning. Especially since he'd probably just rolled out of bed.

He was so infuriating sometimes.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Don't be silly. I want to help."

She flashed her badge to the officer stationed at the perimeter of the crime scene, and, as he let them pass, she lifted the crime scene tape for them both to slip underneath. She reached into her jacket pocket to retrieve her gloves and strode up the front steps of the suburban home, surveying her surroundings as she went.

They found the body on the ground, covered in a white sheet, in the living room, and she stopped cold in her tracks.

Nothing in the room was where it should have been—furniture was overturned and completely destroyed, broken glass littered the floor, the couch and the grand piano seemed to have been hacked open with an axe, and blood was splattered everywhere.

Across the wall in front of her, written in blood, were the words, _Number One_. She hugged herself self-consciously.

In all her days as a detective, she had never seen anything like this.

"Wha—" She cleared her throat and tried again, tearing her gaze from the carnage to look at Lanie. "Lanie, is all this—did all this come from… just one person?"

Lanie's hand was on the sheet, holding it down over the body. She nodded solemnly. "It ain't pretty," she said, shaking her head. When Kate came close and crouched down next to the body, Lanie peeled back the sheet just enough for Kate to see the young woman's face.

Kate gagged and covered her mouth with her forearm, trying to regain control. The young woman's face was disfigured beyond recognition from all the abuse it had received, and was completely covered in her own blood, caked to her skin. Blood was matted into her fair blond hair, and her eyelids were swollen shut over her eyes.

Lanie quietly lowered the sheet back over the woman's face. "She appears to have been beaten to death—but parts of her body show signs of torture so I won't know more until I get her back to the morgue."

Kate nodded and backed away slowly, looking for Esposito and Ryan. She caught Ryan's glance from across the room, and he hurried over to them. "What do we know?"

Ryan flipped through his notes. "The victim's name was Elizabeth Sutton. She was a writing student at Columbia University. She lives with her aunt and uncle while she goes to school—they came home from vacation early this morning to find her like this."

"What about her parents?"

Ryan consulted his notes again. "They live in Greenwich, Connecticut." He ripped a sheet of paper from his notebook. "Here's the address. We've got this here—thought you might want to talk to them."

She nodded. "Thanks, Ryan." She turned to go, glancing at Castle as she went. "You coming, Castle?"

* * *

Kate glanced over at Castle again as she pulled into the Sutton's home on Glenwood Drive, and she sighed. Castle had his earbuds shoved in his ears—something he would have _never_ been caught dead doing before, not around her, at least—and the volume must have been turned way up, because she was sure she hadn't heard such grating, revolting racket in a long time.

She wanted her Castle back. The one who always insisted on holding the door for her—_every_ door—always sang along with the radio (purposely off-key and sometimes at the top of his lungs), confided in her about Alexis, could make her smile in a heartbeat, drove her absolutely _crazy_, but made her feel happier and safer than anyone on the entire planet. Which, really, when you thought about it—it was pretty dumb, seeing that she was the cop with a gun.

But still.

She missed him—_oh_, how she missed him—and she didn't know what had prompted this Castle, either. Just looking at him, taking in the strong curve of his jaw, his expressive sea-grey blue eyes (that usually twinkled with secrets only he knew), those lips she'd been dying to kiss—not five seconds after she'd knocked out that security guard and he had proclaimed that it was amazing. Castle—he was broad and strong and completely embodied happiness and _home_, and she had known, despite their quibbles and jokes and secrets, that she could always hide in the haven of his arms. Castle was her home. She hadn't been able to tell him—she just _couldn't_ get the words out—but she thought he had known, anyway.

If disgust wasn't rolling off of him in waves, she would have been tempted to reach across the seat, caress his cheek, and _try_ to tell him how much she wanted this, how much she wanted _them_.

She would give just about anything for him to quirk that half-grin at her, like he still believed that anything was possible. And here she was, about to give a death notification and ask half a dozen questions she never wanted to put the Suttons through, and all she could think about was pulling a smile out of Castle, seeing him look at her the way he had every day for the past four years.

They _had_ to talk—she _needed_ to know what was creating this chasm between them—but now was not that time.

She reached over and touched his upper arm, her heart sinking when he pulled away from her touch. "Castle, we're here," she said, trying to hide the hurt in her voice. "Are you coming in?"

He put away his iPhone and wordlessly climbed out of her car, and she locked the doors behind them. She had to jog to catch up to him, and she wondered why he'd come if he was going to be this miserable. Maybe she'd talk to him about that later.

A few moments later, a woman in her mid-forties came to the door, still dressed in her pajamas and nursing a steaming mug of coffee. "Yes?" she asked, and Kate glanced at the ground before making eye contact with the woman. Death notifications were never easy. Even after years of being on the force, she still wasn't used to them.

"Mrs. Sutton?"

"Yes?"

Kate held up her badge for the woman to see. "My name is Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. This is Richard Castle," she said with a nod. "May we come in?"

Mrs. Sutton frowned at her but moved out of the way. "Sure—but… what is this about?"

"Is there somewhere we can sit?"

"What is this about, detective?" Mrs. Sutton was becoming more and more insistent. Usually Kate tried to get them to sit, both for their safety and her reassurance, but she could tell Elizabeth's mother wasn't going to do anything until she knew why they were here.

She took a deep breath. "Mrs. Sutton, your daughter Elizabeth's body was found in your sister's house this morning—"

Disbelief flashed across her face, followed quickly by fear. "No—no, no. Not Ellie. There's no way. There's got to be a mista-ake…"

Castle ran over to catch her as her weight fell from underneath her, and he carried her over to the nearby couch. "Mrs. Sutton," he whispered soothingly, settling her against the cushions and fanning her. "Beckett, go get her some water."

She hadn't passed out, but she nearly had. Kate did what Castle asked, knowing how good he was with the victims' families. By the time she got back and handed the water to Mrs. Sutton, she was curled up in a ball on the couch, and Castle was whispering reassuring words to her, never promising everything would be all right but never letting her feel like she was alone.

Castle was _so_ good at that. Maybe that's why she brought him, even though he wouldn't give her the light of day. The victims and their families _needed_ him.

Kate crouched down in front of her. "Mrs. Sutton, is there anyone you can call?"

She looked around the room, looking shell shocked, and finally, she said, "My-my husband. He's at work. Ohhh—" Her face crumpled all over again as tears filled her eyes. "He's at work. He doesn't even know…"

Over the next hour, Kate and Castle helped Mrs. Sutton make telephone calls, and when her husband made it home, they both opened up about their oldest daughter, telling them all about Elizabeth's activities in at their local church, with the neighborhood children, and all her volunteer activities.

As Kate closed the Sutton's front door behind them, she said, "I just don't get it, Castle. Elizabeth's family is well-to-do, but she wasn't _killed_ for her family's connections. There was no money missing, no missing jewelry, no demands—he didn't even try and kidnap her before he killed her. She was likely tortured which means he wanted information on something, but as far as I can tell, she wasn't involved in anything that would have warranted being tortured like that. She was a _good_ girl. She helped others, volunteered almost all of her time, sang in her church's choir. None of that is in the least bit suspicious."

Castle glanced back at the house before lowering himself into the passenger seat. "Well, they are just her parents. She doesn't live with them most of the time. Maybe her aunt and uncle and friends will know more."

Kate sighed. "Yeah. Maybe." She couldn't help but think that Elizabeth Sutton didn't deserve to die in the first place.

As she pulled onto the street to head back to the precinct, neither she nor Castle noticed the beat-up, pale blue sedan that pulls out into traffic behind them, nor do they realize when it follows them all the way back to the 12th.

* * *

**A/N:** So, continue-worthy? I feel completely rusty when it comes to writing fiction, and I feel like there are _so_ many better writers on here than me, but I figured I would give it a go.

Please let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hey, everyone! I'm back. Thanks so much for all your encouragement last chapter—I was blown away by how awesome you all are!

I am going to try and update fairly frequently, but my hard drive crashed a few days ago, and we're still trying to see if it can be fixed, so updates might not be as frequent as I'd like. :( In the meanwhile, I'm borrowing my parents' computers when I can, and hopefully I can still update fairly regularly.

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine!

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

As soon as Kate pulled her Crown Vic to a stop, Castle scrambled out of the passenger seat and strode purposefully toward the entrance to the 12th. He just—he couldn't take it anymore.

She was killing him slowly, sweetly, and he couldn't think of a worse possible way to go.

As soon as they'd gotten into the car, she'd started playing One Direction—he kind of hated that she knew they was his one guilty pleasure he couldn't say no to (okay, three weeks ago, he kind of thought it was hot that she occasionally indulged his guilty pleasures like that)—and she rolled down the windows, cranked the volume up, and, after a moment, started singing along with this adorable little voice, and did this little funky dance with her arms moving back and forth and her shoulders weaving in and out (adorably terribly, by the way), like he _wasn't_ sitting right next to her and she could care less. He could still see her, driving as her rich hair whipped around her face, joy and abandon dancing in her eyes.

It was downright _adorable_.

And that's why he loved her.

But no, he didn't love her. Not any more. He couldn't. It hurt too badly. He had loved her for _so_ long and she had utterly betrayed him—swallowed his _I love you, Kate_ and acted as if none of it mattered. He must have had it wrong, must have lied to himself about every gesture, every word, every moment that brought them closer together, because there was no way the Kate Beckett he knew would remember those words and spend _ten months_ stringing him along if she actually did care about him, at all.

And yet, she spent the next nearly two hours doing a million adorable—scratch that, _horrible_—things to remind him of all the reasons he had loved Kate so much in the first place. After the first couple minutes of music, she turned the music down, and chatted about this and that, incessantly (as if she wasn't the one who had always had problems opening up), eventually ending with an, "I really missed having you around lately, Castle," as they pulled into the parking lot of his favorite Mexican restaurant that he could never get her to agree to go to, even when he begged. Chinese was her thing. He'd asked her why they were stopping here, and, as she climbed out of the car, she just told him he deserved to be able to choose where they would eat sometimes, too.

During their whole meal, she'd asked him about Alexis and Martha and how his latest Heat book was coming, and a million other things that she had no right to know, not after her admission in that interrogation room. But she didn't know that he knew, and he wasn't sure he was ready to change that yet. He couldn't take the look of pity in her eyes when she realized her big secret. It had taken all his efforts to hold himself together until they got back to the precinct. And then, he'd just bolted.

That led him back to his current predicament—racing out of his partner's car to get as fast and as far away from her as possible. He knew someone would notice—who _wouldn't_ notice? He'd practically drooled over her for the past four years.

Thankfully, Esposito and Ryan weren't in sight when he entered the building, and he headed straight for the men's room. It was such a girls' thing to do—go hide in the bathroom while having an emotional meltdown—but he wasn't sure he had another option. Beckett could find him just about anywhere and where she was was just about the least place he wanted to be right now.

He was relieved to find that no one else was there when he pulled the door open, and he stopped in front of the mirror, staring himself down. He looked absolutely haggard—dark circles around his eyes, skin pale, shoulders drooped. _No wonder Mother keeps telling me to let Kate go._

After looking around self-consciously for a moment, he shook his shoulders and leaned in to squint at himself in the mirror. He shook his head back and forth and slapped his cheeks for good measure. He leaned on the counter until his nose was almost pressed up against the mirror.

"You can do this," he growled out, not sure he could convince himself. All he wanted to do was cry—and yeah, okay, he had done that several times already this week, but who was counting? He could convince Alexis and his mother of just about anything, but he had never been as good about dispelling his own concerns, especially when it came to something like this. He couldn't live _with_ Kate, but he wasn't sure he could live without her, either.

"Pull it together, Rick. This is just a job, like any other job. You've closed dozens of cases with Beckett before—you can do just one more. Get in, get out, finish the case, and if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen."

_Yeah_, he told himself. _You can get out of the kitchen_. The thought brought him some unexpected hope. It was freeing to think that this torture could end.

When he'd first found out he had told his mother he'd make it work—and he'd thought he could—but it was clear to him now that that wouldn't happen. How complicated could one case be? Beckett was one of the best, and with Esposito, Ryan, and him, it would be solved in no time. Right?

Right. Of course.

He would make sure of it. If only because there was _no way_ he could handle another morning like this morning, the life and hope and dignity being seeped out of him as Kate squeezed his heart to a pulp, until absolutely nothing was left.

He did have some dignity left, after all. Maybe Mother was right.

Castle studied his appearance in the mirror for a second before rubbing the heal of his hand across his face and running his fingers through his hair. This was about as good as it was going to get.

* * *

A few minutes later, Castle walked into the bullpen to find it surprisingly empty.

"Hey, bro," Esposito greeted as he looked up from where he sat at his desk. "Where were you off to in such a hurry? Beckett said you practically ran out of her car a few minutes ago. She was looking all over for you."

He shrugged, hoping it appeared nonchalant, and nodded in the direction he'd come from. "Bathroom."

Esposito smirked at him. "Those beans must have done a number."

Castle smirked, too. "Guess so. Where did Beckett go?"

He nodded toward the private room where Beckett often took friends and families of the victim when they came in to talk. "A few of the vic's friends from Columbia showed up a few minutes after you and Beckett got back. They wanted to talk to her about Elizabeth."

Castle nodded and started to walk toward the private room when Esposito called out, "Oh, hey, Castle?"

He turned around to look at his friend. "Hmm?"

Esposito held out a thin file to him. "Beckett wanted me to ask you to look at this. She thought maybe one of your crazy theories would be helpful, trying to figure this guy out. She thinks the key to understanding his motive might be to understand his message."

Castle accepted the file as he wandered over to Beckett's desk, lowering himself into her chair. She would probably be mad that he took over her desk, but he didn't really mind. She was the one that wanted him to look at this.

He opened the file and began distributing the photos across her desk. He rubbed the heal of his hand across his face again, sighing heavily. True, what happened to Elizabeth Sutton was horrific, and the message on the wall was disturbing, but it was more than that. The farther they got into this case, his premonition that this one was going to be bad kept getting stronger—he kept getting the impression that there was a lot under the surface that they had no clue about.

That thought alone made him want to back out early, but, much as he would love for his life to be free of Detective Kate Beckett and his worries about this case, he couldn't leave her alone. Not for this case, not when it was already so disturbing.

He reached for the photo of the wall, the two words _Number One_ splattered in blood across the white wall. He was tempted to throw his head back and groan. What did she expect him to figure out? There was only one thing it _could_ mean.

Elizabeth was only the beginning.

The fact alone that he'd left a message meant that he was cocky. He didn't think he'd be caught, which sent a chill up Castle's back. It meant there would be more victims, and it meant that he would be a cold killer. If what Lanie said earlier was right, then the torture meant he was looking for something, but Elizabeth's death wasn't just because he had—or hadn't—gotten his answers.

There was something about this killer that was cold and calculated—and he thirsted for the next kill.

He'd worked serial cases with Beckett before, but something about this one didn't sit right with him. This one felt so much more real, so much more threatening.

But Beckett had to know all that, going in to talk to Elizabeth's friends. They just didn't have enough information to go off of for his mojo juices to formulate the crazy theories Beckett seemed to have grown to love, in her own way.

He looked up to see Kate offering a tissue to one of Elizabeth's friends, a tender look on her face, and, his body, of its own accord, stood out of her chair and started wandering over to the private room.

Before he knew what he was doing, he'd stepped into the room, and Kate looked up and over at him. "Castle," she said in greeting, and he sat down on the couch next to her. "Hannah, Lily, this is my partner, Rick Castle. Castle, this is Hannah St. James and Lillian Girard. They were Elizabeth's two best friends."

The girls' eyes widened when they heard Castle's name. "As in… the _writer_, Rick Castle?"

He smirked as he studied first Hannah, then Lillian. "That's me." He turned to Beckett. "Everything okay in here?" he asked quietly, and she nodded.

"We're fine, Castle," she said, nodding to the girls. "Hannah and Lily were telling me about what Elizabeth was involved with on campus."

Hannah shrugged. "There's really not much to say, detective. Ellie was… she was a _really_ good person," she said, her voice cracking a little. "She didn't do anything to deserve anything like this, I swear. She tutored in the language lab, held a Bible study on campus—she went to church every Sunday, always told the truth, never hurt a fly! Everyone _loved_ Ellie. Really. I can't even conceive why someone would want to—would want…" Her face crumbled as her tears fell again, and Lily pulled her into a hug as they comforted each other.

Lily looked up at Castle and Beckett after a moment. "Everyone has enemies, right? But Ellie—I swear, she wouldn't hurt a fly. Everybody loved her."

Kate squinted at Castle, wondering if he caught what she did, and then she turned back to the girls. "Waiwaiwaiwaiwait… Everybody has enemies? Who had it out for Elizabeth?"

Lily blanched and hugged Hannah a little bit tighter. "N-n-no one," she said, shaking her head. "I told you, everyone loved Ellie. She wouldn't hurt a fly, and no one would hurt her."

Kate leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. "What aren't you telling me, Lily? If someone had it out for Elizabeth, I need to know. They might have hurt your friend."

Lily shook her head. "N-no one. I was just saying. Everybody has enemies at one point, you know? But Ellie didn't. She was good, fair, kind. Everyone loved Ellie." After a second, she asked, "Can I—can we go see her?"

Kate paused for a second, trying to let them down easy, when Castle spoke up for her. "I—I don't think that's a good idea, girls."

Hannah and Lily frowned at them. "Why not?"

"Even if you could see her right now—which you can't—I wouldn't suggest it anyway. You don't need to remember Ellie like this."

Dejection filled both of their faces, but Lily nodded. "Oh-okay," she said, helping Hannah to her feet. "Is that all?"

Kate handed Lily a card. "For now, yes. Thanks for stopping by, and if you can think of anything, give me a call, okay?"

Lily accepted the card and nodded. "Thanks, Detective Beckett."

Kate just nodded and watched them walk out. After they were out of earshot, she turned to Castle. "They're lying."

Castle squinted at her. "Wai—what? They're lying?"

She gestured to their retreating forms. "Didn't you hear them when I asked about Elizabeth's enemies? They are hiding something. Somebody didn't get along with Elizabeth and they know who it is."

Castle watched as Hannah and Lily stepped outside the precinct. If they were the key to the case, why wasn't Beckett pressing harder? They had the answers to prevent other deaths.

Before he could ask, Esposito poked his head in the door. "Hey, Beckett, we've got another body."

Kate blanched as she glanced over at him. "Already?"

"Yeah. Her boyfriend found her in their living room when he came home this afternoon, face smashed in, tortured, just like Elizabeth Sutton."

* * *

**A/N:** Things are picking up! Next chapter is when the exciting part starts. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Soo. What did everyone think of tonight's episode? I was kind of disappointed, to be honest. I knew I shouldn't have expected a big, emotional reveal, but I was secretly hoping for one! :( And I was sort of hoping Nathan would have better chemistry with Adam Baldwin with their Firefly history and all… Oh, well.

Obviously, this has gone AU. That was the plan all along, but some people were asking, so I figured I should let everyone know for sure. :)

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine!

* * *

Chapter 3

* * *

Kate sighed heavily as she dragged herself into the precinct, glancing back to see Castle following her, holding the bags of Chinese take-out for them all. Esposito and Ryan trudged in behind them. Castle looked just about as frustrated as she was. She didn't blame him.

They were all getting frustrated with this one.

They'd arrived at Laura Delacroix and Jordan McConnell's apartment to find Jordan sitting at the kitchen table, sobbing. She'd sat down, tried to calm him down, while Castle stood to the side awkwardly. Slowly, Jordan calmed down, and he'd started to talk about his girlfriend. Laura was an exchange student from France, had attended Columbia since she'd started college, and had never mentioned an Elizabeth Sutton or an Ellie Sutton.

And that was about the best lead they'd gotten all day.

Jordan had been in the Poconos all weekend, visiting his ailing mother, and the last time he'd seen Laura was before he'd left. As far as he knew, she didn't even have plans to go out that weekend, and, like Hannah and Lily (_more believably, though_, Kate thought), Jordan had no clue who would want to do anything like this to Laura. _Everyone loved Laura_.

Now that sounded familiar.

They'd called it an early night, but Espo and Ryan had been at Columbia all day today, talking to Laura's and Elizabeth's professors, not to mention other students in their classes, office faculty, and the girls' academic advisors. The only thing they'd had in common was that they went to the same school. They were both enrolled in the same professor's world history course, but they were both in different sections and didn't appear to have any interactions with each other. Despite the fact that Ellie Sutton was outgoing and sociable, Laura was shy and reserved, and Jordan had admitted that his girlfriend had very few friends. School and Jordan were her life.

She and Castle had spent all day interviewing Laura's and Jordan's neighbors and landlord, trying to track down Laura's last whereabouts before she was murdered, and doing the same for Elizabeth.

They were now back at the station, cartons of Chinese takeout surrounding them, as they tried to come up with a game plan for what came next. She wasn't sure they had any more leads to follow, except to possibly press Hannah and Lily even harder.

They were scared, but she didn't know why.

Everything in her gut was telling her _something_ was going on at Columbia University. She couldn't say _what_ exactly, and she trusted Esposito and Ryan when they said nothing was there. But still. She couldn't stop that feeling in her gut.

"So there's _nothing_ at Columbia?" she asked in disbelief, just after Espo had promised (probably for the fourth time today) that nothing had panned out at the university. She just had to make sure.

"Beckett, we already told you. There's nothing. No ties to each other. It's a dead end."

She sighed and shoved some rice into her mouth, leaning back in her seat. She hates cases like this. "Well, what did Laura's classmates say? Did she have any enemies?"

Ryan shook his head. "Whenever we mentioned her, everyone always said, 'Laura who?' Jordan was right. Laura kept to herself."

A moment later, Gates strode by the room they were sitting in, eating with the files spread out in front of them. She nodded toward her office, her face void of emotion. "Beckett, Castle, my office. Now."

They all frowned at each other, but Kate and Castle scrambled to their feet when she called over her shoulder again, not even bothering to look.

"Now!"

They filed into her office, and Kate closed the door behind them. "Yes, sir?" Kate asked.

"Beckett, Castle, I'm sending you undercover together."

They both stared at each other in surprise, and the color drained from Castle's face in horror. He whipped around to face Gates again. "You can't be serious! I'm a civilian. Can you even do that?"

Gates stared back at him, looking almost bored. "You're the one always trying to get involved, Castle. You want to prove yourself? This is your chance. The chance that you'll be in any danger is extremely slim. You don't fit the profile, and Beckett won't ever be far away. Besides, I've heard you've been undercover with Beckett before."

_Of course she would know that._

All he could think about was the fact that there was _no way_ his mother and Alexis would let him go undercover with Kate Beckett, not after they'd found out the secrets she'd been keeping from him. If they didn't skin _her_ alive, they would him.

"But—sir…" Kate started lamely. "_Why_ are we going undercover? The case has barely begun."

"And _you_, detective, told me just this morning that all your leads were dead ends. You told me that you felt that something was going on at the college, but nobody would speak. There's a lot of pressure coming from the mayor to solve this case, and we're not going to be able to do that from the outside." She gave Kate a sidelong glance. "That is, unless you have any new leads to report?"

Kate glanced at the ground and shook her head. "No—no, sir."

"Good. Well then," she said, handing them a file. "Meet Alexander and Katherine Richards, more commonly known as Skandar and Wren."

"Skandar?" Castle asked in disbelief. "Who came up with the nicknames? And what's wrong with Rick and Kate?"

"I did, Castle. You have a problem with that?"

He quickly clammed up. "Nope—no, sir. Skandar's a wonderful name."

Gates smirked. "That's what I thought. Besides, we needed something you would remember while still creating new identities. We couldn't have people figuring out you were a detective and her sidekick."

Castle stopped short when he realized they were a _married_ couple. "Wait, wait, wait, wait—we're _married_, too? Don't you think we could be, you know, just acquaintances or something? Why do we have to be married?"

Gates rolled her eyes. "I thought you'd be thrilled, Castle. You follow her around like a puppy dog as it is."

"Well, yeah, but—that's… it's different. We don't know how long this is going to last."

"Which is why you need to be married. While this needs to be wrapped up sooner than later, you both need to be in constant connection with each other, and what better way to do that than be a doting, loving couple? Besides, the only positions we could fit you into campus were at the Starbucks and as a creative writing professor. It's highly improbable that the Starbucks barista and the respected writing professor would be all buddy-buddy."

"What?" Kate protested. "I'm a _barista_?"

"Please, lower your voice, Detective Beckett. We all know that you'll probably get the most interesting information while people are in line waiting to order. It may not be the most glorious undercover job, but it will certainly be fruitful for solving this case."

"Well, wha-what about Espo and Ryan?" Kate blurted out.

"They've been all over campus already. You two, however, have not. If the killer is on campus, he won't have a clue who you are. Detectives Esposito and Ryan will be working the rest of the case from the precinct. Meet back here at 8 a.m. sharp—we need to take pictures for your apartment and get your drivers' licenses and everything sorted before you go under. Tomorrow night, you move into your apartment just off campus. Remember to pack enough for several weeks, just in case this turns long-term." She studied the two of them almost drolly. "If there are no more questions, that will be everything."

Kate pulled open the door, and Castle followed her out, back to the conference room where they'd left Ryan and Esposito.

The two detectives grinned at each other as they saw the scowls on Beckett's and Castle's faces. "What's got your knickers in a twist?" Ryan asked with a grin, and Beckett gave him a death glare.

She gestured to first herself, then Castle. "Meet _Skandar and Wren Richards_," she said drolly, the look in her eyes showing exactly how she felt about the little part they would be playing. "The latest happy young couple to grace Columbia's halls. Or Starbucks."

Wide grins slowly covered Ryan and Esposito's faces, and, a second later, Esposito muttered under his breath, "It's about time."

Kate sent him another death glare. "Not another word."

Castle reached for his jacket. "I'll see you in the morning. If Mother and Alexis don't murder me first."

Ryan and Esposito smirked as he walked away, and, just before he stepped out the front door, they peaked out the conference room and called across the bullpen. "Later, bro!"

Castle just rolled his eyes and lifted a hand in farewell.

_Well, _this _was going to be fun._

* * *

"Richard!"

Castle sent his mother a frustrated, pleading look. "I _know_, Mother! It's not like I can do anything about it. Those poor girls are dropping like flies, and I can't step away now. They need help, someone to protect them, and Beckett can't do it on her own. Much as I hate the idea, I need to go."

"But… Dad, you're supposed to be _married_ to her. She broke your heart! You can't just go in there and pretend like it's okay for you to love her, that all of this is real! Because it's _not_ Dad. It's _not_. She's just doing her job, and she doesn't care for you any more than when she met you four years go."

He nearly crumpled at Alexis's fiery accusations. It was true, and it _killed_ him, but that didn't change the fact that two girls were dead and another one could drop any day. His voice lowered in defeat.

"Look. I know you both hate Kate, and you have _every_ right to. But those girls did _nothing_ to me and they need something I can give to them. After this case, I'm done, I promise. I just can't do it anymore. And then you can go back to hating Kate and planning your revenge against her. But this one… I have to do this one. She's saved my life too many times for me to just drop off the face of the planet when she _really_ needs me this time, and Ryan and Esposito—they did nothing wrong. They deserve at least a good-bye."

They both gave him stony looks, and Alexis drained the last of the water in her glass before tossing it in the sink and wandering toward the stairs. "Fine. But I still hate her. And this one had _better_ be your last one."

After Alexis disappeared up the stairs, Martha strode over to him and patted his cheek gently. "I'm worried for you, Richard."

He sighed. He was worried for himself, too. "I know, Mother. But I'll be careful. Hopefully this will be done before you know it."

She sighed, too, and reached up to kiss his cheek. "I hope so, Richard. I hope so."

* * *

**A/N:** See? Definitely more exciting! Well, in the relationship department, at least. :) More angst and drama to come!

Review, please, on your way out!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** So I have my new laptop! So maybe updates will be a bit more frequent. I'm not one of those three-times-a-day posters (or even those every-other-day posters), though, so I'm not making any promises. :( But at least I have my own computer to work on. :)

I really enjoyed working on this one, so hopefully you all like the result! Please enjoy and review on your way out.

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine!

* * *

Chapter 4

* * *

Kate took a deep breath and grinned to herself as she came to a stop at the front doors of the 12th, her hand resting on the handle to the door.

Undercover with Castle.

When gates had told them last night, it had seemed like a death sentence. Castle would barely look at her, much less kiss her when an audience demanded it. How in the world were they supposed to be a loving, doting, happily-ever-after couple? Not to mention the fact that it was _so_ early in the investigation. They didn't even know what they were looking for.

But the more she'd thought about it, the more it seemed like a blessing in disguise (and no, the irony of the situation—that _Gates_ had blessed her life with something good—did not escape her).

She and Castle, undercover. _Married_, undercover. Taking on the world together, just like always. Maybe this would be her chance to make things right, after all. He would have no distractions, and it wasn't like he could run now. Just her and Castle against the world. They could do this.

She pulled open the door to the precinct and stepped inside, looking around. It was still early, and she hadn't expected anyone else to be there. In fact, she was kind of glad she had beat the boys today. It gave her time to mentally prepare herself, get ready for the next couple of weeks.

She dropped her bag of clothes off by her desk and made her way to the break room, tugging her sweater tighter around her shoulders. Gates had told them to bring several changes of clothes for the photo shoot, ranging from casual to formal wear. She was now dressed in a more casual lavender dress, white eyelet flats, and a white cardigan wrapped around her shoulders.

She usually wouldn't opt to dress up in something so feminine at the station (well, anywhere, really), but it seemed to suit what she imagined Wren Richards would probably be like, and she wasn't sure what to expect for the photo shoot. Besides, a niggling thought in the back of her mind kept hinting that it couldn't _hurt_ for Castle to see her as a (vulnerable) woman, not just a tough New York City detective.

She still didn't know what was causing him to pull away, but it had sent her heart reeling. She missed Castle like crazy, and wanted him back more than anything. If dressing a bit more femininely caught his attention, gave her just enough of a foot in the door to let her break the ice between them, then she would do it.

Kate made herself a cup of cappuccino and settled in at her desk, going over the file Gates had given them the night before. She'd read it all the way through the night before, but you couldn't ever be too prepared for an undercover op. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gone under, and she didn't want to mess this up.

Even worse, she didn't want to get Castle hurt.

She was nearly through the file for the second time when she heard voices coming toward the bullpen, and she looked up to see all three of the boys arriving together. Esposito noticed her first, skidding to a stop in front of Ryan and Castle. "Whoa, Beckett!"

A wide grin covered Ryan's face as he took her in. "Look at you," he said, and Kate just rolled her eyes at them. Of course they would notice her appearance before Castle would. "Don't you have leads to chase down or something?"

Esposito and Ryan just rolled their eyes and sauntered off toward the break room to brew their own cappuccinos, and Castle was left alone, his bag of clothes hanging from his right hand, as he took in his partner. The demure lavender sundress suited her, in a way he couldn't have predicted, and the white cardigan softened her. Like… almost like she was vulnerable, too.

He tried to shake the image from his mind, the thought that Kate was just as vulnerable as he was, but he couldn't. Her dark hair fell in waves around her face, her eyes shone brightly back at him. He couldn't remember her looking more beautiful than in this moment.

_Gah_, she was perfect.

He'd seen her in stunning evening gowns that had taken his breath away, but this—seeing her like this, beautiful but the total opposite of flashy… He couldn't help but love this version of Katherine Beckett, too.

"Wow," he whispered, shaking his head. "You look… great, Kate."

A small, demure smile played on her lips. "Thanks. I figured this was the sort of thing Wren Richards would wear. And we do have that photo shoot, so…"

He nodded. Oh, yeah. Right. The photo shoot. "Oh, yeah."

She studied him for a moment, dressed in a pair of dress jeans and a white dress shirt with light lavender stripes. His shirtsleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, and the muscles in his forearm rippled as he hoisted the bag over his shoulder, trying to find a more comfortable position. His blue eyes were twinkling back at her, almost like they used to, and that adorable, stubborn lock of hair had drooped back into his face again.

He couldn't be more perfect.

She grinned up at him as she put all the papers scattered across her desk back into the file. "Well, at least we're already matching," she quipped, and she was rewarded with one of those smiles that registered more in his twinkling blue eyes than on his lips.

_Maybe today was off to a good start,_ she couldn't help but think.

She forced herself back into the present, nodding toward her boss's office. "Gates wants to see us as soon as you're ready."

He nodded and dropped his bag next to hers on the floor. "Okay. Let's go."

She studied him as he started walking toward Gates's office. "You don't want any coffee first?"

He shrugged as he glanced back at her. "Alexis made breakfast."

"How'd they take the news?" she asked, falling in step next to him.

Castle smirked, despite the discomfort of the whole situation. "Not well, exactly. Mother was worried I'd get murdered, and Alexis… well. They're both really protective of me."

She quirked a grin over at him. "Yeah. I know. I wouldn't have it any other way, you know."

She rapped on the door to Gates' office once and peaked her head in the door. "Sir? Castle's here."

Gates beckoned to them both to enter. "Good. Detective Beckett, Mr. Castle, I want you to meet Sam McPhireson. He's done work with us before, doing the photography for other undercover ops. He has a studio a couple of blocks from here." She gave each of them pointed looks. "Do what he says, both of you. I trust his judgment, and even though it seems like this part of setting up the op is inconsequential, it's not. We need to sell that you're both madly in love. Do I make myself clear?"

They both nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Go with Mr. McPhireson. He'll treat you well."

The man standing at Gates's side, a foot or so behind her, reached across the desk to shake their hands. "Call me Sam. It's a pleasure," he said, a twinge of a Scottish brogue coming through his voice.

Kate buried a grin. Sam was… attractive, to say the least. Wavy, dark brown hair, warm chocolate brown eyes, a lingering five o'clock shadow. He had a muscular build, and she couldn't help but notice the way his muscles rippled underneath his tee shirt as he reached across the table when he shook her hand. The slight accent only made him that much more appealing, and she wondered how many times he'd gotten lucky, just because of that accent.

Her mind was on more important matters, though. Like, what Sam was going to make her and Castle do for this photo shoot. She wasn't sure she was ready to kiss Castle undercover, much less in some photo shoot. Married couples did that kind of stuff, right? Had photos of them cuddling and kissing and holding each other.

She wasn't sure she wanted to find out what this was going to be like.

She reached out to shake his hand. "Detective Be—it's just Kate," she finished awkwardly. She rarely introduced herself as just Kate at work, but she figured he wouldn't want to be calling her Detective Beckett all day.

She blushed a little, and Castle reached out, shaking Sam's hand right away. "Rick," he said casually. "It's nice to meet you."

Sam grinned at them both. "Well, we have a full day ahead of us, so let's get going. Captain Gates says you brought a couple changes of clothes?"

They both nodded, and he said, "Good," leading them out of the room. "You'll need them. Grab them and follow me—I'm parked out around back."

* * *

"No, no… Rick, wrap your arms _around_ her. You two are supposed to be _married_, not on the brink of divorce! Closer, closer… a wee bit closer. Kate's not going to bite. At least, I don't think she is…"

Kate huffed and rolled her eyes. The only person she was planning on biting was Sam. At first she didn't think it would be too bad—the first few photos were easy. Walking together on the sidewalk, holding hands. Cuddling up to Castle on a white porch swing, resting her head against his shoulder. Tackling him in a neighborhood park, playing flag football. Lying on the spring grass together, Castle facing one direction, with her facing the other, looking into each other's eyes, apparently lovingly.

It would have been easy to get lost in Castle's eyes, to close the distance between them, to actually kiss him for real, but the distant look in his eyes kept her at bay. This photo shoot was turning from tame to torturous, and with every new photo, and the million positions Sam put them in, she was closer and closer to screaming and running away. She couldn't help but think how much fun they'd be having together, doing all of this in the name of justice, if there wasn't a barrier between them the size of the Great Wall of China.

Now they were positioned in a small alcove behind Sam's studio, in front of an arbor with dainty pink roses climbing up the side, and Castle was supposed to have his arms wrapped around her shoulders, was supposed to be holding her against him.

Castle stood up straighter, standing more normally instead of keeping his body as far away from her as possible, but he still looked awkward and pained, and Sam shook his head all over again. "No, no, no." He sighed. "This is never going to work."

He deposited his camera he'd brought out into the alcove, and, as he reached for one of Castle's arms, he asked absentmindedly, "Haven't you _ever_ cuddled with anyone?" He snorted and mumbled to himself, "And Gates said this one would be easy."

He guided one of Castle's hands to cradle one of Kate's elbows, and she instinctively reached up, grabbing his arm, holding him close. And before she knew it, Castle's other hand had come up, and now lightly stroked her upper arm. Her heart melted at the soft caress, and, unconsciously, she leaned back into the wide, strong expanse of his chest.

"Good, good!" Sam called, and Kate had to remind herself that this was all part of a photo shoot, that none of this was real. "Now kiss her neck!" His camera was poised, and Kate figured he was sure he'd finally get his shot this time.

Her breath stopped in her throat when she felt Castle's warm breath on her neck just beneath her ear, and, half a moment later, he found that spot on her neck that made her go weak at the knees. She melted into his embrace, and, before she remembered that this was a photo shoot and not real at all, a soft, barely audible moan rose from her lips.

* * *

Castle stopped short at the change in Kate. She was _melting_ in his embrace. The thought both thrilled and confused him. If she was _so_ opposed to a relationship with him that she had to lie about hearing his little admission for nearly a year, then why was she reacting so physically to one staged, hardly-heartfelt kiss?

His lips had barely even touched her skin.

Then he heard that soft moan come from her lips, and it took all his resolve to hold her where she was, to not flip her around and kiss her properly.

_What_ was she doing?

Desire pooled deep in his gut, and he was tempted to turn and run. He couldn't do this, couldn't keep his heart intact while pretending to love her like this, when she was sending him _so_ many mixed messages. The heady mixture of her perfume and shampoo had been driving him crazy all morning, and he wasn't sure he could keep this ruse up without breaking something or storming out.

"No, no, no!" Sam cut in again, and Castle found it a welcome relief. "It's still all wrong! Kate, he's _kissing_ you, not about to murder your baby. No wide eyes. Laugh. Act natural. Turn in toward his face a little. You're sharing a joke with him, laughing. Rick, don't be afraid to get close to her!"

Sam repositioned himself and nodded for them to retake their position. But this time, as he leaned in to kiss her, he held her close, trapping her in his arms, and placed a soft kiss on the smooth skin of her neck, sucking on her skin softly, watching her reaction curiously.

He couldn't help it, not after she'd tortured him so much in the past few weeks. He was rewarded when her whole body responded to his kiss, pressing closer to him as she melted into his touch. He couldn't help the grin of pure masculine pride against her skin.

But then she was turning toward him slightly, laughing, looking almost carefree, and Sam was calling out with relief, "_Finally!_ Okay, let's take a break. Five minutes! Meet me back in the studio in five."

As Sam disappeared from the alcove, Castle turned to Kate, to ask her what the last five minutes had been about, but she had already disappeared.

Anger filled him. Of course she would disappear. Kate Beckett didn't know how to do anything but hide. He stormed away from the alcove, needing to clear his head. He really wanted to make this work, to help Kate close the case and find the killer, but she was making it extraordinarily difficult.

* * *

Castle leaned back in his chair as he fiddled with his phone, trying to find a game he hadn't played a thousand times before. It was past suppertime, and they still hadn't had lunch, were about to attempt the last picture for their photo shoot.

Sam had refused to tell them what it was about, had taken them to their separate dressing rooms and refused to let them see each other until they were both ready. Instead of using the clothing he had brought with them, Castle found a tuxedo hanging on the back of the door for him, and he wondered what sort of photo Sam had up his sleeve.

Whatever it was, it must have been big. And Sam was probably afraid of their reactions, so he'd refused to tell them. Castle couldn't blame him. They were terrible at this.

A door slowly opened down the hall, and Castle's head snapped up to see Kate emerging from her dressing room.

His breath caught in his throat as he took her in. Strapless, pure-white wedding dress, the fitted bodice covered in intricate, Italian lace, the full skirt billowing around her. The elegant train, covered with more lace and pearl-like beads, was arranged perfectly behind her, and her hair hung in soft ringlets around her face, small white flowers woven into her hair, the veil carefully attached to her head with an intricate barrette. Her expressive brown eyes were staring back at him nervously, and she was biting her lower lip, nervously.

She was breathtaking.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest, and he slowly stood to his feet, making his way over to her as he took in every inch of her beauty. He loved her so much it hurt, and he had no clue how he was supposed to do this, no clue how to see her in such a stunning wedding dress without remembering years of wanting to say _I do_.

When he reached her, he reached a hand out and gently tucked a stubborn curl behind her ear. "You look… amazing, Kate," he said softly, and he meant it with everything in him. _Gah_, how he wanted to kiss her right now.

Sam stepped up between them, breaking the moment, and he handed them each a black velvet box. They opened them, together, and discovered two matching simple silver wedding bands, with the words _Always 10.19.11_ engraved on the inside of each ring. Inside Kate's box was also a more ornate silver engagement ring, a large diamond in the center, with smaller diamonds surrounding it on both sides.

Kate had to work hard to keep the tears from filling her eyes as she slipped first the engagement ring, and then the wedding ring, onto her left ring finger. She hadn't realized how much she'd wanted this, a happily-ever-after with Castle—witty, immature, charmer, annoying, lovable, huggable, _perfect_ Richard Castle. Not now, of course, but sometime in the future. But she wanted him, she wanted this, and seeing the raw, open desire flash across every inch of his face made her only want this more.

"Castle—" she began, feeling like she had to say something, had to try and show him that she cared about him every bit as much as he cared about her.

But before she could get another word out, Sam called from across the room, "C'mon, love birds! Our reservation isn't going to last much longer."

Sam's assistant reached down to help Kate with her train, and she clamped her mouth shut. Apparently, this conversation would have to wait. The ride to the large, European-style church was long, uncomfortable, and mostly quiet. Sam's assistant, Jane, sat between Kate and Castle in the back seat, tried to strike up conversation between both of them, but neither offered much in terms of reply, and soon she just gave up.

When they arrived at the church, Sam lead them through the church's large courtyard area, the foyer, and then up the stone middle aisle. "I convinced Pastor Joe to leave everything as it was for the wedding they had earlier today." He glanced back at his assistant. "Janey, hit the lights, eh?"

The chandeliers came to life, and, by the time they reached the front of the church, Pastor Joe was coming out to meet them, dressed in his best suit and tie. He grinned when he saw them. "Hey, Sammy!"

Sam grinned and shook the minister's hand. "Pastor Joe. Thanks for keeping things for us. We ran a bit later than I'd expected."

Joe grinned and winked at Kate jovially. "No problem." He turned to study Kate and Castle, interested. "Is this them?"

"It is," Sam said. "We don't have much time, though. They have an apartment to get to."

Joe grinned at them warmly. "Right. This way." He led them up the stairs, helping them to get organized, and, after Sam passed on a few instructions and the veil had been pulled over Kate's face, he announced, "You may now kiss the bride."

For a moment, Castle stared down at the upturned face of his partner. Despite the fact that all this was being staged, he'd been sure that Kate had wanted to say something to him, back at Sam's studio, and his desire for her had only multiplied on the drive here.

Hardening his resolve, promising himself that he _could_ do this, he slowly lifted the veil covering her face. She was stunningly beautiful. He reached up, cupping her face, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. A slow, wide, happy grin covered his face, and he was relieved to see it mirrored in Kate's face, as well.

And then he leaned in, capturing her lips with his own, grinning like an idiot against her lips (something he could only explain by the fact that he was obviously going crazy). Then she was kissing him back, wrapping her arm that held her bouquet of muted lavender and white roses around his neck, and her other hand, the one wearing his ring, coming to rest against his chest.

As he deepened the kiss, he softly ran his fingers along the back of her hand until she released her hold on his tuxedo jacket, and he scooped her hand into his, threading their fingers together.

He just needed to hold more of her.

When Kate began to run out of air, she slowly pulled away, a slow grin still lighting her features, and Castle noticed that the shuttering of Sam's camera had stopped. He ignored it, just stared into Kate's eyes. Oh, how he wanted for this to be real.

And then Sam's voice filled the room. "Okay. Just one more shot."

He ambled over to them, and Kate managed to squeak out, "Not another kiss—"

And Sam laughed. "No, I think I've tortured you two enough for one day. This one will be a piece of cake compared to that. Come with me."

He led them all out to the foyer, which was empty but still decorated with the white and lavender roses. "Okay, Rick, just hold her, okay? You can slow dance a little if you need to. Kate, just hide in his arms. It's just supposed to look like an intimate, candid moment between the wedding and reception."

So he did. He pulled her into his arms and tucked her head into his shoulder and slow danced them in circles while Kate held onto him, letting him lead, for once. It was strangely healing, holding her after the frazzling day he'd had. This, he could do.

Everything else, however—that he wasn't so sure about.

* * *

**A/N:** Review, please!


End file.
